One Last Talk
by The Authoress Complex
Summary: Late one night, Angela Cross receives two life-changing calls. The first is from a friend. The second is from a man she's never met. Requested by deviantArt user guy12389.


_Beep. Beep._

"Ugh..." Angela Cross groaned, slow and groggy. The pattern of light – on for two seconds, then off for two seconds, to repeat indefinitely – indicated that someone was trying to reach her via communicator. At this hour? It could only be an emergency. It _better_ be an emergency, or SOMEBODY was going to pay.

_Beep. Beep._

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time, you hunk of scrap!" Had she been more awake, the words likely would have been more sharp. As she was still half asleep, at best her tone mimicked an irritated kitten's growl, "Rook, could you ID the caller, please?"

The hologram of her personal assistant, Rook, appeared over the communication device. He did not hesitate in his annunciation, "Caller identification recognized as: Ratchet and Clank."

"Of course it is," Grumbled the biologist, "If he's in the hospital again, I'm not flying all the way to Endako to see him," Rook didn't respond to that, and after a few moments Angela simply sighed, "Accept the call."

"Call accepted."

Rook's image faded from the communicator, replaced by three-dimensional static that soon turned into an image of Ratchet. Before he could get the chance to say anything, the bleary-eyed biologist went into a tirade.

"Ratchet, do you have ANY idea what time it is here? You can't just-" She paused, awareness regained enough to notice a few differences in Ratchet's appearance. Namely, his attire, "Are you wearing armour?"

The holographic image of her friend rubbed his neck, ears bent so that the tips fell below his eyes, "Ah, yeah. You heard about the Tyrranoid attacks in Solana, right?"

Angela tried to recall, and eventually remembered a slight blurb about it on the radio between the classics she liked to listen to at work. They were soft, calming; helped her to keep a clear head during particularly frustrating experiments. She mostly tuned out the in-between segments, but now kind of wished she'd listened in when Ratchet's home galaxy had been mentioned.

"Fourteen worlds were hit over here," He paused, eyes downcast to avoid meeting hers, "One of which was my homeworld."

"Veldin?" The female Lombax blinked, surprised. Veldin had been, from Ratchet's descriptions, a dusty desert world with no strategic value whatsoever. A combination of bad luck and potential malevolence on the part of the 'Drek' character Ratchet had struggled against before was the only reason Veldin was even considered as a target. To attack it a second time, especially after it proved to have a determined protector, was just foolish.

"Yeah," The other Lombax finally met her eyes, and Angela fought the urge to sigh in exasperation. Despite his skill both in the workshop and on the battlefield, he was still just a kid, really, and Angela sometimes had trouble remembering that, "I raced back as soon as I heard the news. We got here in time to save the planet, but..." He sighed, "There are a lot of people unaccounted for. Mostly people who didn't like me. A few... neighborly acquaintances," His brows furrowed together, and his lips curled down. He didn't growl this time, but Angela still recognized this expression; the same one of protective anger that had resulted in his wild attempts to rescue his robotic partner when she had kidnapped him.

The same angry gaze that had saved her from the clutches of Thugs-For-Less.

Ratchet hardly bothered to keep his feelings for her a secret. There had never been any dramatic confession, no sweeping gestures of romance. Just a few subtle glances over sweet, goofy smiles. It was cute, in an awkward little kid kind of way, but she hadn't done anything about it.

Now looking at Ratchet, garbed in armour and off to war, she realized she might never get that chance.

"Ratchet, I-"

"I know, I know," He gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke, "I shouldn't have just rushed off to battle without thinking things through, but if I thought things through you and Clank would both be dead right now. And probably me, too," He grinned.

Angela sighed, but couldn't help the small smile lighting up her face, "I don't know how Clank puts up with you."

"Yeah, me neither," The somewhat jovial tone the conversation had taken halted abruptly, as Ratchet's features twisted into a more serious expression, "Hey, listen, I... Clank said I should talk to you about... something important," He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her, ears bent down in his embarrassment, "But I don't want to do that with a hologram, so once this is over, I... I..." He finally looked back up at her, and for what must have been the first time in the conversation, their eyes met. He was scared, she realized, and given what he'd faced when they'd gone up against Megacorp together, she doubted his nerve had anything to do with any upcoming battle.

So she gave a small smile, encouraging and light-hearted, "I understand, Ratchet. You know where I'll be when you finally sort out those Tyrranoid things. And, for the record," Ratchet was leaning forward, subtle but eager to hear what she had to say, "I have a few things I want to say, myself. We'll work it out when you get back."

They exchanged another look. Ratchet was bashful, ears level with his head and mouth pulled into a small sort of smile that signified a hope he'd never conveyed before. Angela imagined she looked similarly. The exchange ended when she yawned, and suddenly remembered just how late it was. Ratchet chuckled.

"Alright then, I guess I'll let you go. But, ah, I'll call you later?"

He phrased it as a question. He could NOT be more adorable. Angela giggled, exhaustion clearly taking a hold on her mental faculties, and replied, "Yes, you will. Preferably not in the middle of the night, but whenever you can. I'll be here."

"Okay," Ratchet's voice crept down to a gentle level she wasn't used to seeing from him, "Sweet dreams, Angela."

"Thanks, Ratchet. Good luck fighting, and if you don't come back alive, I swear I'll violate every law of nature and bring you back just to slap you silly myself. Understood, kid?"

He winced jokingly, and she chuckled under her breath, "Understood, ma'am. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The communicator clicked off, and Angela gave a dreamy sigh as she lazily dropped back into bed. Ratchet may have been a kid, but he was still one of the nicest guys Angela had ever met. Heck, maybe something could come out of it. Maybe they could even find the other Lombaxes together. That would be nice. But it could all wait until he got back. Until then, she was perfectly content to let her dreams carry her to visions of the future...

_Beep. Beep._

"Oh, come _ON_!" Angela pulled her pillow out from under her head and proceeded to pull it over face, hoping it would drown out the loud beeps of the communicator. When that failed, she sighed and pulled herself out of bed once more, "Rook, caller ID. NOW."

"This caller is not in our personal computers," Explained the virtual yeoman. When Angela's sour, tired face turned to him, he hastily added, "However, Holonet search results confirm that this number belongs to famed Archeologist and Lombax specialist Max Apogee."

"Max Apogee?" The girl raised one of her brows at the name, "Never heard of him."

Rook gave her a neutral stare, "He has flagged this call as 'Urgent'. I do believe it would be in our best interest to answer it."

"Alright, Rook, accept the call. But whatever he has to say better be good!"

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: Ratchet and Clank does not belong to the Authoress Complex.<p>

Authoress' Notes: My first request fic! Thanks to guy12389 on deviantArt for requesting, and I quote, "um,do you mind if it is a ship fic? Specifically a Ratchet X Angela cross one :/"

I had full creative freedom. Hope he likes it, but I had no idea how to approach this pairing. Here's to hoping any future projects don't take nearly as long!

What did I do good on?: I kind of liked the ending of Ratchet and Angela's conversation. They're both so hopeful. Shame Tachyon gets in there way. :(

What did I fail on?: I don't know how I managed a whole thirty day OTP challenge when I clearly suck at writing romance.

Question for reviewers: Would you like to request anything? Feel free; I need help getting back into the swing of things. _Directions Forward _isn't going up until I'm confident I can post a chapter a week.


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